All roads lead to fate
by blackanubis9
Summary: It's been years since he dumped them on New Mecca, and he had no intention of ever seeing them again. When he sees her on a planet-the kind he hoped she would never be on, he demands answers. She doesn't think so. Not a soft Riddick; violence and language
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Pitch Black and all its' characters are not mine. We all know this sad fact of life. Just like we all know the only thing we have to gain is our own enjoyment. This is rated M, because Riddick isn't a 'please and thank you' kinda guy. And there's the whole violence thing, too.

Chapter 1

So, it's been seven years since I've seen him. Seven years is a long time. I would be lying if I said I never think about him any more, but I have slowly taught myself not to let him be the first and last thought of my every waking day. 'Cause he was for so long. It was hard to actually start a life with things in mind other than him, goals that somehow would not make me more perfect in living his life. I know that's not what he wanted for me, and it's not like I was thinking about going to Assassins R Us, or something, but the first couple years were centered around him. I know Imam worried a lot in those two years. I went to school, took all the training classes I could, and then I went to a community center to learn anything medical I could find. See, Riddick-centered. I don't know how I lasted two years without a life or spare time. But those two years were probably necessary. It let me accept that I needed to do things because I wanted to, because I had that right. After that, I still was finishing high school, taking all the training classes I could, and the occasional medical course, but then it was because I liked those things, not because I thought they would make me more valuable to Riddick. Imam and I had a long talk about that, because after two years he was starting to think I was obsessed or something. Most kids don't graduate from high school at 16, but what can I say? I'm gifted.

I saw my first merc, after Johns, anyway, at 17. Needless to say, I did what had to be done. Did I enjoy it? Not really; it's a lot messier and smellier than most people realize. The body lets go of everything when it dies, ya know. All the books and movies in the world can't get a person ready for that. But I had Imam to protect, and it wasn't hard to figure out why I was so interesting to them in the first place. I got lucky that time because the guy never found out where I lived. And I moved out of Imam's within the week. He had a hard time with that, thought I was doing the teenage rebellion thing, but it's not like I could tell him why I needed to live across town all of a sudden. Besides, he did have a family and had taken care of me when Riddick couldn't. It was a small way to pay the holy man back, and I was happy to do it. I could take care of myself, and him... not so much. It's a good thing, too, because I saw a lot of mercs after that. So much that I had to come clean with Imam when I changed my name. Try telling your dad that you moonlight as a hacker and have to change absolutely everything about you, cut off all ties. He fought me pretty hard on it. Until I pulled the Ziza card. That stopped him cold. Sure, I may have been only 17 in physical years, but I was way older, and we both wanted Ziza never to understand that kind of aging. So, I did the only thing I could. I changed my name, my ID, everything that made me Jack, and I ran.

It wasn't all that traumatic, actually. I got to give myself the name I had always wanted, and how many people get to do that? And so I moved to another planet, big deal. I had moved so much before I had gotten on that damned Hunter-Gratzner, one more move wasn't going to break me. It just made me appreciate what a breather those two years with Imam were. Two years where I could half-way relax, and that was something for me. At first, I kept a low profile by getting a job as an exotic dancer - not a stripper! Jesus, like they could actually dance or do anything to a pole except hump it, please! Anyway, I worked for an entertainment group, so we went and provided the entertainment and didn't have to worry about drunks trying to stuff paper money into places I would never let them in a million years. It also meant I got to sleep during the day. Always have been a night owl, always will be. It's quieter, and easier to think at night. Plus, I am already up and ready to do errands before most people are even getting their first cup of coffee. It was a good life. I didn't need a lot of friends, maybe one when I had the urge to be around people, I am just very self-sufficient. I know who I am, and I don't need other people to entertain me. You had my mind, you would definitely understand. The shit I can think up... Anyway, I stayed there for about a year before I got spotted. So, I grabbed what I needed and couldn't live without, and booked. Went three systems away, and very far away from Helion.

So, I've been lucky enough to stay on this place for the last four years. I hit a gold mine and didn't realize it. I wondered why the passage was so fuckin' dirt cheap; no one with a good bone in their body would ever come near this planet. It's a black market heaven, especially if you have a bounty on your head. Mercs know better than to shine a badge around here without making a will first. Sure, I got a lot of shit when I first got here, but c'mon, it's ME. After a month and a lot of dead creeps, no one looked at me twice. Guess I passed muster. Still came up with a new name and ID, just in case. Got another job doing security for a local bar, and I'll be damned if I don't love it. I get to fight all I want and get paid. Shoulda realized that sooner or later, he'd show up here.

It's not like I ever really thought about it. I had my own life, spent it alone for five years. Sure, I still talked to Imam every month, but they were way over there, and I was actually becomming content. I still did courses online for things that interested me, and even though you'd barely know that anyone lived in my home to look at it, it had enough for me. After four years of bouncing, I had all the money I needed if I had to run, and I was safe from the people I needed to be watch out for.

And then he had to show up and fuck it all up.

I mean, I wasn't pissed or mad that he had found me, but I was getting used to my life. I probably would have died on that planet at a ripe old age and had no regrets. He just wasn't something I thought about all the time. I had to grow up, and usually that means letting go of childish fantasies. I had accepted the fact that I would never see him again, and that was a hurt that would always come back to sting a little, so I didn't think about it. Actually seeing him, well, it wasn't something I had planned for. That would have meant keeping a small hope that it would happen, and you know why I couldn't keep that.

Him showing up at the bar, starting a fight, and getting stabbed was not how I had ever imagined our reunion, either.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Pitch Black and all its' characters are not mine. We all know this sad fact of life. Just like we all know the only thing we have to gain is our own enjoyment.

Chapter 2

So, it's my day off, and I get this call from work. Seems some guys got in a fight at the bar, nothing really special about that, but it escalated into a full out brawl. That's what happens when I don't work on Fridays. I told Bear I needed to work the weekends, because the other bouncer has shit-for-brains, and as long as he doesn't have to move his ass off of that stool he loves so much, a nuke could go off and he would just smile and tip back the beers. Maybe now Bear'll listen to me. Of course, I'm sure the fact that I make twice as much as that dumb shit had almost everything to do with it, but if this keeps up, I'll be working the weekends in no time. All the best fights are on the weekends. But I get this call, and apparently after Bear brought out the shotgun and fired off a few rounds, most of the drunks took off. Just the two guys that started everything are left. And one of them claims to know me. Sure, honey, easy to claim when my name is well-known here. I'm one of the few women in this town that can walk the streets alone without getting trouble most days. So I just laugh at Bear and say, "sure, he knows the self-proclaimed Ice Queen, right." And Bear's voice gets all funny and low, like he's whispering or some shit, and he says that this guy was calling me Jack. If it's a merc, I'm thinking I have a little time to make him disappear. Someone else would probably do it anyway, but why let someone else have the fun? I tell Bear I'll be there, and Bear says to hurry 'cause the guy got beat up pretty bad. Like I give a shit. I am Jack, hear me snort in total lack of caring.

So I walk down there, watching for any new faces, and I walk into the bar. My dipshit fellow bouncer is sitting on that fucking stool, nursing a broken nose. I walk up to him and straighten it real quick, before he has any idea what I was going to do. Nope, didn't enjoy any of his curses aimed at me. Maybe I could've gotten away with re-breaking it just so I could set it again. I find Bear pacing behind the bar like it's his last stand or something, and I patiently remind him that this shit wouldn't have happened if I had been here. He glares at me, which he only does when he really doesn't want to admit I'm right, and jabs the shotgun in the direction of the guy that supposedly knows me. So I take a look, knowing that if he is a merc, then I'll tell Bear I'm taking it outside, and that'll be the end of it as far as anybody'll ever know. But no, it's not a merc, it's Riddick. He's sitting in a corner booth, on the table, and bleeding everywhere. Apparently the other guy had already been hauled off to a clinic. So I stand there like a moron, not really believing it's him. I mean, if mercs, the blood hounds of the fuckin' human race, couldn't find me, then how in the name of all that is wicked and sinful did he? He stands up and walks over to me, and he at least has the grace to look a little sheepish. Fuckin' right, bring shit to my life, my place of employment no less, and damn right you're gonna feel a little sorry about it. Or I'da stabbed him once more for the hell of it. I can't, like, hug him or anything, or the whole Ice Queen thing is blown, so I wink at him where no one will see it and proceed to bitch him the fuck out. Sure, we were leaving the bar as I did it, but I'm sure everyone heard enough to know that I was not a happy frost queen of the sexless biotches. About a block away from my place I fall back so we're walking side by side, and I finally look at him. He's still the same. How in the hell does he manage to look just as big at 20 as he did when I was 13? Shit, can I learn that trick?

I wait until my door is closed before letting out the sigh I've been carrying since I first realized it was him, and I take a good look. He's been roughed up pretty good, so it had to be quite a few of them on the other side's team to actually do this much damage. Nothing I can't stitch up, though, thank God. I am a bouncer, so of course I have a small clinic in my bathroom, which makes his eyebrow hit the ceiling. The word bouncer is all I need to say, and he grunts like it makes all the sense in the world. Wait, it does, nevermind. So he sits down on my toilet, and I pull out a towel from the hallway closet, setting it back on the sink. I grab everything I think I'll need from the cabinet under the sink, and I tell him I'll be in the living room. He nods and I wait out on the couch. Now, don't laugh when I tell you that besides the coffee table that hold my laptop, the couch is the only thing in the living room. At least I have a couch, because my last two places didn't. Dude, it's just me, and I'm not the kind to entertain. Why the hell would I need a couch?! It was free, so whatever, bite me.

He walks out in the towel, and I'm doing good. I haven't seen how Adonis he is, my tongue isn't hanging out like one of those cartoons where the guy turns into a wolf and is howling over some hot babe, and I am not acknowledging his knowing smirk. Fuck. Whatever, guess I won't be with the charitable giving of the painkillers, now will I? You don't piss off the person who has the drugs, duh. So I sit down and start stitching. Thankfully I have to look at what I'm doing, so I have an excuse to be quiet. Just stitch and bandage. I have to move several times because he has knife cuts on all sides, and I'm not moving my laptop off the table for no one. He can sit on the couch and be thankful. When I finally get done (were there any knives he managed to miss?) I pick up all the garbage and head into the kitchen, grabbing the OJ on the way out. I hand it to him and lean against the wall opposite the couch, waiting patiently. I can be very patient, and I think it actually surprises him. I'm not the impulsive little kid any more, dumb ass. If I have to face harsh realities, then so do you.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Pitch Black and all its' characters are not mine. We all know this sad fact of life. Just like we all know the only thing we have to gain is our own enjoyment.

Chapter 3

_My whole life is nothing but coincidences. Shoulda known I would find Jack by chance._

_I was headed to the Black Market. Don't even remember what the planet's called, it just is black market central. I pick up this chick on her way there as well, and even though the pussy was nice to have at the beginning, by the time we were there I was ready to kill her. That's why I never stay with them, they're so... female, and emotional, and fuckin' useless. Amazing they survive past puberty. Do I look like I care what shade of nail polish is better for her toes in my ship's lighting?! So I practically toss her out of the ship, and I do not give a flying fuck if she gets pissed or not. I pay for the refueling and go look for a bar. I see this one that has the dumbest piece of dick I've ever seen bouncing it, and figure it's a good place to get a beer. I don't have to worry about mercs here, but it's still a good idea never to be recognized. _

_I figure I'll go hit the bar after I get everything set on the ship, so if I have to haul ass for some reason, I can. I get supplies and pay for the delivery, clean up the awful smell of that woman's perfume from the spare bedroom, and just try to bleach any evidence of her existence off my ship. Put away the deliveries, check on my fuel, and realize I'm beat. So I hit the bunk and love the fact that I am once again alone and have quiet. The next day I take off for the black market district, and I pass that bar I plan on hitting later. And who the fuck do I see bouncing it? Jack! My Jack, who looks like the most beautiful and deadly thing I have ever laid eyes on besides a shiv, is bouncing at a bar on one of the worst planets in existence! Now, I will be the first to admit that I never tried to check up on her and Imam, but this is exactly what I was hoping would not happen to her. I wanted her to live in the sunshine, not in the dark like me. And this place is darkness personified, perhaps more than me. Damnit! Well, fuck, do I go see her, do I not see her, what the fuck am I supposed to do? _

_I don't remember a fuckin' thing from that night. I got all the stuff I needed, but I just don't remember doin' it. This Jack thing has me thrown. She's a female, and I just got my freedom back. If I say hi, she'll probably try to tag along again. Last time I had a good reason to say no. Can't use it now. Shit, now I'm curious about why she's here! Fuck, better go pay rent for the berth. Looks like I'll be here for a while, at least until I figure out what her deal is. _

_I really need that drink now, but I don't want to go to another bar. I want to see what kind of place she is working at, so I wait until I see she's not working. That's two nights I've gone without a beer or a woman, and I plan on taking it out on somebody. Better be a good fight, because I don't want to chance taking it out on Jack when I see her for the first time in what? six, seven years? And it's not like I'm gonna come back to this bar again, 'cause after I see Jack, I'll either be leaving, or I can just find another bar. So I'm sitting in the corner, where it's nice and dark, and then things get complicated. I absolutely, mother fuckin' hate complicated. Of all the bars in this mother fuckin' town, that bitch had to pick this one to meet her husband at. And then the fuckin' twat was dumb enough to tell the guy where she knew me from! So I got this guy and all his guys comin' after me, and all I wanted was to sit in the corner and drink a fuckin' beer, get into a good and clean fight. Simple goals. Yeah fuckin' right. Pretty soon the whole entire bar is in on it, and the damned bouncer is just sitting there like he's watchin' a vid or something. I do not want to meet Jack because I trashed her bar. Oh, and because I'm now bleeding out of several cuts. I'm the best, but when the guys start piling up, the numbers get ya. The numbers always get ya. It's why I love, and am insulted, when mercs always come so light. I hear a shotgun, but it's directed at the ceiling, and I don't want someone to get in a lucky shot. Only one of me, lots of them. Most of them clear out at the shot, and soon it's down to just me and that asshole with the bitch. I'm trying to stay under the radar, so I don't kill him, which is not helping me not be pissed off. Any other place, they'd be wiping his blood off the ceiling for months. Never shoulda come here. _

_Only problem is, I'm starting to feel the blood loss, and I know I need stitches - a lot of them. So I tell the bartender to call the other bouncer, 'cause I know her. He doesn't know the name Jack, which doesn't surprise me, but even bleeding and looking like cheese, I can still intimidate anyone. It's good to be me. So I go back to my corner, where the shit all started, and wait. Ten minutes later she comes in and starts sassing the boss. Love the attitude. The Jack I remember didn't take shit from no one, and I'm not ashamed to say it's a relief to see that hasn't changed. I don't move from the booth, partly because it's holding me up right now, and partly because I know what she's thinking. You don't live here unless you have a few serious blemishes on your record, so I'm assuming she has one. Or the mercs just figured out I knew her. So she probably thinks I'm a merc. And I gotta tell ya, the look on her face when she realizes it's me, fuckin' priceless. Credit card commercial kinda shit. She throws me a wink, and starts a bitchfest the likes of which I have never heard. She turns around and starts walking out of the bar, but that mouth never slowed down. Guess she has a rep to keep, and I'm not gonna be the one to blow it. I follow and listen to the increasingly creative suggestions of what I can do with my most prized possession, and I remind myself later to ask exactly how I'm supposed to do a few of them. I seriously doubt they're physically possible, but it might be fun to ask just to fuck with her. It's what I do. Just 'cause she's Jack doesn't mean I won't fuck with her like everybody else. She takes me to this crappy little apartment, and I see that there's nothin' there. Shit, I've got more stuff on my ship, and I'm ready to ditch it in a second if I have to. You can always tell a lot about someone by their home, and either there's nothin' to her, or the lack of personal anything is telling me all I need to know about her. Can't decide which one it is right now, as my head's definitely fuzzy. Need to eat and sleep this off. She shows me into the bathroom and gets me a towel, grabbing what looks like a mini clinic's worth of stuff out from under the sink. Well, she IS a bouncer. I get in the shower and clean off, and watch a lot of my life go swirling down the drain. She still hasn't __really__ said anything to me yet, and I'm thinking she's freaking out as much as I am. Never really thought I'd see her again, guess she was smart enough to figure the same thing out. Well, that's my life for ya. _

_Just for shock value, and to fuck with her, I go out there in only a towel, and even though she is very careful, I can still see I'm having the same effect on her that I have on every woman ever born. But she hides it well, and I'm not enough of a bastard to call it to attention, so I just sit on the couch and let her stitch me up. She still hasn't said a word, and I'm thinking it's all gonna have to wait until tomorrow, because I need a couple hours of sleep. I tried not to look at her ass when she went into the kitchen, but who am I kidding? She's got a really nice one. Actually, she looks really good. She's not a fuckin' stick like all the women seem to want to be nowadays. Hate having to remind myself constantly not to break them when I fuck them. Kinda takes the fun out of it. The whole point of fucking is to let go for just a minute, just a second, and I can't do that if I'm worried I'll accidentally break their back if I get a little too rough with her. But Jack, now she looks like she could take anything I give her and just ask for more. Fuck, can't think of her like that. She comes back out of the kitchen and hands me some orange juice. When she leans against the wall, just watching me, it's hard not to hide the smirk. Now I have control over the situation, like I always do. Jack could never handle the silence, she always was the first one to break it. All I have to do is wait._

_I'm waiting. _

_..._

_Still. Waiting._

_Shit. This is getting fuckin' ridiculous. I just want to go to sleep, and she's all determined to make me talk first. I'll give her credit for forcing it, but she's still not gonna win. And I'm going to sleep. So I'll just stretch out on the couch, and she'll get the idea eventually. _

_I always win. _

_We'll talk in the morning. Figure this all out._


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Pitch Black and all its' characters are not mine. We all know this sad fact of life. Just like we all know the only thing we have to gain is our own enjoyment.

AN: I would just like to give a quick thank you to those who have reviewed. You are why I keep writing.

Chapter 4

Now, when I say I'm not a morning person, I mean if you wake me up before ten in the morning and don't have either a triple espresso or a triple espresso with a good shot of bourbon in it, I will personally spend hours finding out what scares you the most and do my best to make sure it happens. That's on a normal day. Today, not normal by any stretch of the imagination. I was pissed when I went to bed, having been ignored until the bastard stretched out on the couch and fell asleep on me without saying anything - no thank you, nothing. He hasn't even technically said hi to me yet. So I get out of bed pissy, then I forgot that I only sleep in fuckin' panties because do I _look_ like the kind of person who brings random strangers or friends (which implies that I have friends, wait, gimme a minute to laugh at you for your stupidity. Ok, I think I'm done.) to my place of living?! Yes, the tuperware party has been moved to next Friday, my ass! So Riddick gets a great big eye full of pretty much all I got before I storm back into my room and put on a wife beater. No, I am not going to get any more dressed than I have to, it'll just remind him of all the stuff underneath and possibly make him think that I'm trying to hide it from embarrassment. 'Sides, it's my place, damnit, and if I want to walk around in boy shorties and a wife beater, anyone who wants to tell me differently can die and become a contortionist in their next life so they can kindly go fuck themselves. Fuck, do I need some caffeine and a lot of bourbon! Maybe even whiskey. Yes, whiskey is definitely called for today. What the fuck am I supposed to do with him? Do I think I'll get lucky enough that patching him up was enough and he'll just go back to his life and leave me alone? Not really. So I walk back out there and I smell coffee. That helps, a lot actually. He has the cups out and is looking through for my cupboards for sugar, I assume. It doesn't take long to look through my cupboards, because there's nothing in them. I have already gotten half of my first cup downed, and I'm trying not to snicker. Imagining Riddick drinking his coffee any other way than black is just... effeminate. That's why you'll have to excuse me if I snorted a mouth full of coffee out of my nose when he asked rather bitchily where the sugar AND cream were. I couldn't help it. I knew he was getting mad behind me, me laughing and there was nothing to put in his coffee, but I was too busy trying to clear my nostrils of liquids that were never intended to be there. Thank god I snorted into the sink or it would have been everywhere.

"Sorry, Big E, I only drink it black. Dontcha think a big, strong guy like you drinking your coffee all pretty like that is kinda pussy? I do have bourbon or whiskey if you prefer that." I swear to God he was going to kill me with his bare hands until I mentioned the liquor. _snicker. _I think he's realizing I'm not the whiny, tugging on his coat-tails kinda kid anymore. I'm all growed up, got my own life and a personality I KNOW is hard to deal with, hence the lack of friends. Yep, he's gonna need the whiskey just like me. The only reason I don't have a shit-eating grin on my face is that I'm gonna see how much shit I can give him before he slams me into a wall. Trust me, I woke up today knowing I'll push him to it sooner or later, I just want to see how much it takes. So, Jack - 1. Riddick - still not awake and unaware that I'm totally fucking with him. As the score should be. Maybe I don't need the whiskey today after all.

I decide to take the fun that is becoming my morning into the living room, as my kitchen is the size of a closet and I don't want the smallest tick of my smiling muscles to give me away. My laptop is up and running by the time he decides to join me, and even then he's leaning against the wall, the exact spot I was on last night when I was trying to get him to talk to me. Don't think I haven't noticed, shit head. I'm checking the news streams, same as I do every day, and as usual I see nothing to particularly concern me. Then I check the bounty list, which you are only supposed to be able to access if you are a merc, but do you honestly think that would stop me? Please, I'm rolling my eyes at you.

"Wow, your bounty is up to 2.5 mil. Who the hell did you kill to get so pricey?" He walks around behind the couch and leans over enough to see what I am looking at.

"How the fuck did you get in there, Jack?" Ooooh, he thinks I'm some pathetic, scared, hence a loner little woman playing at being a hacker. Shit, man, this's almost too easy. I remember him being a lot more discerning as a kid. Maybe it's just me he can't get a read on. Who the fuck cares?

"I'm sorry, what have I said or done to make you think I was an idiot? Never know when it might be useful to have a guy thinking I'm an easy, stupid woman. And you still haven't answered my question, and I was first." Do I really think he's going to answer me? No, but not the point.

"Damnit, Jack, I never said you were an idiot. Fuckin' A, woman, drink some more coffee, or put whiskey in it for Christ's sake! And why the hell should I know why my bounty's so high? I haven't killed anyone in months, just trying to be left the fuck alone!" Yeah, I'll be fair and admit I had that comin', but it was still worth it just to see him visibly restrain himself from treating me like everybody else. Hell, anybody else'd probably be dead. Can I count that as a point? I'll let that one go.

"If you're trying to be left alone, why the bar fight? Why in a bar that you apparently know I happen to work in? You coulda gone across the street and been off this planet by now. You never checked up on me or Imam before, so why do you want to see me?" Time to change tactics. I'm being totally calm, no accusation in my voice when I point out that he has never once tried to see how I was doing. Obviously, or he would have known I was here when I first got here, and probably dragged my ass anywhere else. This _is_ a shithole, after all. Anyway, the change in tactics, right. Hopin' to find out what he's thinking, and keep him totally unsure of me at the same time. Besides, the best way to make someone feel guilty for something they didn't do, is to make it clear that while you might have expected anybody else to do that something, you didn't expect _them_ to do it. Psychology, man, it's great, and I learn it for free just by working in a bar. It looks like it's working, too, because he almost looks... confused? Like he has no idea why he isn't already halfway out of the system by now.

"I'd say your decorating sucks, but you'd have to have stuff first." Ah, classic Riddick. When one is not comfortable with where the conversation is going, start a new one, no matter how strange it may seem. Ok.

"Want to go get some breakfast?" He gives me a half glare, telling me that he knows what I'm doing. No shit, Sherlock, I'm just imitating the fucking master, here.

"I know this place that makes great biscuits and gravy, and I am somewhat a critic of all things breakfast. My treat?" Yes, Big E, let's keep you guessing why I'm giving up the at home advantage.

"Sure, kid. Whatever you want." Score: Jack - 2. Riddick - suspicious, but still 0. I've got ten hours before I have to go to work and Riddick uses it as an excuse to run off, so I better make the most of it. Lord knows I probably won't be here the next time he comes through. Hell, I may just leave because he knows I'm here. If word gets around that he was here, and I just happen to be on the same planet... Yep, I'm getting references from Bear tonight and giving my notice. Shame; I liked that bar.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Pitch Black and all its' characters are not mine. We all know this sad fact of life. Just like we all know the only thing we have to gain is our own enjoyment.

Chapter 5

To be completely honest, I am not called an Ice Queen for nothing. Not that I'm actually sorry for anything I do, I'm just acknowledging that most assholes that come into contact with me and use the label are right. Case in point: breakfast. I was good on the walk there, made small talk that meant and told him absolutely nothing. Made him think I had given up on the whole silence thing and was trying to fill the said silence with telling him what my life had been like for the last seven years. Honestly, all I told him were some sob stories I had heard from the drunks on my last shift. But in all fairness, he wasn't really listening, and neither was I. How do I know that? Because I never got a sex change job in order to get a job as an opera singer. Fuckin' fruit that guy was.

I keep up the boring conversation until we're almost through with breakfast, at which point I can't stand to listen to myself anymore. Strange that he hasn't complained yet. I would have called it cruel and unusual.

"So, I have to work tonight, so do you want me to see you off or just say goodbye once we're done here?" Ha! Here's the genius of what I just said. Not only did I tell him that I don't expect him to stick around, but I've also given myself a very good excuse to not say anything, making things very awkward. I love it. He would have to have balls of steel to stick with the not talking thing now. Of course, he could say he was going to stick around, but that's not very likely. And it's another little poke of guilt. If he really wanted to know what happened to me, what I've been doing, he had plenty of chances all through breakfast, so if he tries to say he still wants to know all that stuff, I can claim offence for him not asking me while I had the time. He spent breakfast saying nothing, so it's not my fault that his chance at catching up has come and gone. I can claim I have errands to do, or shopping, or whatever bullshit I think is necessary, and off he goes. Besides, I need to figure out where I'm going now, so I actually do have something to do today. Thanks to Riddick.

"Tryin' to get rid of me so quickly, kid? I thought you were doing fine with all the bullshit stories that never happened to you. If you're making this up as you go, I've gotta give it to you for imagination. How about telling me how you've really been? Why're you not with Imam anymore, and on this shitty planet?" See, now I can claim Umbridge, wherever that phrase came from.

"Well, you didn't really seem to be listening, so I figured you didn't care." I'm waving my hands like it's no big deal that it doesn't matter to him, like I get it all the time. "It was nice to go out to breakfast with you and all, but I got stuff I gotta do before my shift. So, goodbye here or at the ship?" Again, no accusations, like I'm reading something out of a book my voice is so even. I was getting all ready to call the final score at 3 - 0 in my favor, when he leans over the table and looks at me like I was a little kid hiding the car keys behind my back and claiming I had no idea where they were.

"It's not gonna work, Jack. You don't have shit to do right now, and I'm paid for a week at the dock. So we have some time to figure out why in the hell you are so anxious to get rid of me. Or why you don't have any shit in your apartment. Or why you haven't told me one thing about yourself since this morning, except that you like your coffee black, and you think I'm a pussy for liking sugar in mine. Oh, and you're a hacker. Does Imam know that?"

Shit, I was gonna be halfway to my apartment by now, and he plans on being here for a whole fuckin' week?! There's no way I can slip off this rock if he's still here. Ffffffffffuck! Ok, think, girl, think!

"Here's the thing, Riddick. I don't owe you shit. Yes, you saved my ass on that planet, but I've more than made up for it since then. So if you really want to push this shit with me, then might I suggest something first?"

"What?" Suspicious, Riddick?

"Regardless of what you think, I actually do have something to do after breakfast, and I'm sure you're overdue from not getting a hooker last night, so let me go run my errand, and after you get laid or whatever you can meet me back at my apartment - preferably after you shower, though. I smell enough hookers at work." He looked at me for a minute, trying to figure out if I was telling the truth, which I was, and then he said OK. Probably the pissed off tone I was using. Because now I gotta decide real quick if I'm just gonna pack and book, or stick around and meet him at my soon to be ex-apartment. Well, he hasn't bounced me off any walls yet, and I was kinda looking forward to that. I guess I'll pack and leave after he destroys my deposit. I don't really need it, so who cares?

I toss some money on the table and leave without saying another word. I'm guessing he's going to follow me, so I go to the docks and check out the possible flights outta here. I don't want to decide yet, because I don't know if it will take an hour or five hours to make him lose his temper. He's sitting on the steps of the apartment building when I get back, and boy, does he look pissed. Yep, he definitely followed me. Here we go.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: Pitch Black and all its' characters are not mine. We all know this sad fact of life. Just like we all know the only thing we have to gain is our own enjoyment.

AN: Ok, guys, I got so many great reviews (thanks, by the way, we all need the love) that I got this chapter out of my head much faster than I normally do. Hope you all like it.

Chapter 6

Riddick followed Jack into her apartment, locking the door behind him. He watched as she sat on the couch, noting his anger and the locked door.

"So, Jack, planning on going somewhere?"

"Yeah, actually. Felt like a vacation, wanted to check my options. I would've thought getting laid would have been preferable to following me."

"Wanted to make sure you didn't bolt on me. Not like you really had anything here that couldn't be replaced." She stood up and raked her hands through her hair.

"Fine, I don't believe in having a matching dining room set, so what? What do you want to know, Riddick? Huh?" He approached her slowly, giving himself time to control his anger. He walked around the room, closing shades as he went, so that when he was finally in front of her, he could lift his goggles and look at her with his shined eyes.

"I want to know why you are such a bitch, how you got that way. Why you could drop everything and run without having to pack first. Why your life with Imam didn't work out. Take your pick. Or better yet, start at the fucking beginning!", he roared at her. Her eyes widened before she shoved at his chest to get some space between them.

"You pompous ass! I don't owe you shit anymore! I already paid you back in spades years ago, but if you were really interested, you would have been talking to Imam for the last seven years. Imam always knows where I am, he knows why I left, so if you had any REAL interest in my life, you would already know everything already! Shit, I've accepted the fact that you don't care, that you were never going to be around, so why are you pretending to care now?!" For the first time she regretted having nothing in her living room; there was nothing to throw. She settled for a kick that turned the couch onto its' back side.

"I'm here now, Jack. And I'm curious now. I left so that you wouldn't end up on a shitball like this. I never expected to see you on any of the shitballs I'm hiding on. So tell my why we're on the same planet, Jack, because apparently the last seven years of hiding has been for shit!"

"Bullshit! You said you wanted to be left alone, not that you were hiding. Oh, I'm sure you're always hiding, but it's not because of me, so don't you dare put all this on me, like you gave up this great thing so I could have a life!" The couch went sliding another few feet under the force of her boot, which only gave him more room to maneuver.

"You're still not telling me anything, Jack. You're talking around in circles. Maybe you've forgotten who you're dealing with, here." He grabbed her by the arms and lifted her until she was level with his eyes. She was not short by any means for a woman, but he still had almost a foot of height on her. He looked into her furious eyes and smirked at her.

"Aww, were you hurt when I never came back, never called, Jack? You thought maybe you were something special to me? Did I break your heart, Jack?" She responded by spitting in his face. Enraged, he threw her at the wall, watching as she flew through the air, bounced off, and hit the ground. Wiping his face, he gave her time to stand up, silently giving her credit for being able to be steady on her feet. He had not thrown her gently.

"Look, this's very simple, Jack. Tell me what I want to know, and you can get back to your sad little life, or lack thereof. Don't make me go visit Imam to find out." He was baiting her intentionally, taunting her with something he could, but never would do. She surprised him by laughing.

"C'mon, Riddick. Did you really think I believe that shit? That you would go hurt the one man who ever gave you any respect, simply because you were a man, to get a few details that you couldn't get outta me? No, you couldn't hurt the Holy Man, only mercs are that low. And you will never stoop to their level, will you Big E? Sorry, guess you're just going to haveta beat it outta me, 'cause I ain't givin' you shit. You don't deserve it." He went for her throat, intending on bouncing her head off the wall a few more times, but she stepped inside his arm and swung her elbow across his nose, rolling away. He looked at her incredulously, wiping the blood away and flinging it onto the floor.

"Fine, we'll do this the fun way. I don't see why it's so hard to just tell me, little girl. And I deserve everything for going back for your ass on that planet!" He swung a huge fist, rocking her head back. Mindful that she could lash out at any of his stitched areas, he seized her arms and slammed her against the wall, hearing it crack behind her. She snapped her forehead onto his nose, and he roared as it cracked and bent sideways. As much as he wanted to slam her head into the wall again, he knew another hit could seriously injure her head, so he settled for an uppercut into her diaphragm. She grunted as the air was forcefully pushed, painfully expelled from her lungs, but aimed a precise kick to his knee before sinking to her knees. While he felt the kick, he ignored the pain and the anger that it caused him, trying to keep his temper in check. He grabbed her by the throat and squeezed, hoping to make her pass out quickly. Her fists collided with both sides of his head, one bouncing off and hitting his broken nose. Enraged, he slammed her against the wall, watching with satisfaction as her face turned red. She fought it as long as she could, trying to stay conscious. Jack tried to get another shot to his head and he merely took her wrist in his hand and squeezed it until it broke. A horrible, breathless croak was all the scream she could manage. Her eyes shot down to his leg quickly before she jabbed her knee at his inner thigh, purposely missing the stitches on the top of his thigh, hoping to unbalance him. Thinking she had aimed for his stitches, he punched her in the gut hard, but not hard enough to break anything. Another croak was forced from her throat, and she turned her eyes to his. They were slightly bulging, but he could still see the satisfaction in them. Wondering why she had not lost consciousness long before, he suddenly realized that her heart beat was off. His anger suddenly cleared enough for logical thought. When he strangled people, their hearts raced, their bodies fighting tooth and nail against the oxygen starvation. Her heart had slowed to the point that he had to listen carefully to hear it beat. She was intentionally slowing her heart down, but why? To stay conscious longer? That wouldn't accomplish anything, she had to know he would win sooner or later; she couldn't last forever. She wasn't pretending to be unconscious, so she wasn't trying to fool him. Was she trying to die?! If he hadn't noticed, and she stayed conscious long enough, he would have continued to strangle her until she was dead. His hand immediately opened and her body fell to the floor. Her legs buckled without a fight, and as she was unable to cushion or control how she fell, her head crunched against the floor. He continued to stare down at her, trying to convince himself that she was not trying to die, to trick him into killing her. Sure, it was pretty obvious that her life sucked, but it could be so much worse. Surely she knew that! He picked her up carefully and listened to her heart, satisfied when it started to beat furiously, returning oxygen to her body as quickly as possible. He kicked the couch back onto its' feet and laid her out, heading for the bedroom. She wanted to get off the planet, fine. She would. And he would get his answers.


End file.
